


purple comforter and chicken soup

by aliaaaaaa



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, assholes in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 17:05:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12822087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliaaaaaa/pseuds/aliaaaaaa
Summary: Percival is sick and he blames Newt for it.





	purple comforter and chicken soup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vaderina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaderina/gifts).



> I’m having mild sore throat and I want to write something for my lovely friend. Not beta-read so expect some errors.
> 
> I do hope you will enjoy reading this as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it.

Percival Graves never gets sick. Ever.

Every time he feels like his joints ache or his throat clinks, he always immediately downs pepper-up potion to make himself feel better again just so he can continue working.

The potion always works.

But not this time it seems because Percival wakes up from his restless sleep, feeling like his throat is on fire and there’s a heavy pressure inside his ears. He blinks and takes a deep breath — _not wanting to admit that he’s sick because he never gets sick_ — and realises that his nose is all clogged up and stuffy too.

He moans pitifully; tries to move his legs to kick the blanket but his muscles feel to heavy and that distressed him even more.

“Fuck,” Percival curses softly, swallows down the saliva to expel the low buzzing in his ears.

It doesn’t work.

“Fucking Scamander,” he murmurs and as if being conjured up like a Genie, Newt materialises in front of the door leading into the room. “I hate you,” Percival rasps when Newt walks into their bedroom, wearing his most comfy outfit; canary yellow and black striped pajamas. His broad shoulders are being wrapped by a bright purple comforter that trails behind him.

Newt looks as miserable as how Percival feels but that doesn’t mean he will clear the space for Newt to plop down next to him on the big bed.

“I feel like utter shit too, you know,” Newt croaks out while struggling to keep his body on the bed from being pushed by Percival and his persistency wins him a place on the bed even when he’s in danger of falling from the edge.

“I have never been sick before,” Percival declares, shifting to his side to look at Newt’s flushed face; his hair matted to his forehead.

“There’s always a first for everything, darling,” Newt replies back, wrapping the comforter around his shoulders tighter and flattening his body against the soft mattress when Percival blindly tries to shove him off the bed.

“It’s your fault that I am sick. If you didn’t kiss me last night while you have the flu—“, Percival starts to whine in high-pitched voice only to be cut off by Newt.

“You let me so we are both at fault here and don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy our little kissing session because I remember very well that you were in my lap, grinding down on me and actually came on my—“, Newt rattles off only to stop halfway when he starts to cough violently; the deep sound of hacking cough resonates loudly in the bedroom, and Newt curls into himself when his whole body shakes from the impact.

Percival takes pity on his lover and rubs his chest gently until the coughing finally eases and everything is quiet again.

Then Percival sneezes and his ears pop and sound rushing in and setting off a mild headache behind his left eyeball.

“I’m never going to let you touch me again,” Percival groans, his voice starting to crack and Newt secretly hopes it will disappear altogether because he doesn’t want to listen to Percival complaining now.

“I can’t afford to get sick, Newt. My department needs me! The Aurors will do something stupid then everything will go up in flame!”

Newt loves Percival. He really does but his boyfriend can be dramatic for the wrong situation. Got kidnapped by the darkest wizard? All fine and dandy. But down with flu and sore throat? Call the lawyers because Percival Graves is about to read his last will to his loved ones.

Percival sighs and moves his body to be closer to Newt; his warm hand still rubbing Newt’s chest every time he looks like he’s about to cough. Newt in turn lifts his comforter and spreads the cloth to include Percival in the little warm cocoon; wrapping his arm around Percival’s shoulder to pull him closer. Percival goes willingly; sighing in contentment when he feels Newt’s clammy hand brushing back his sweaty hair.

“I thought you said you won’t allow me to touch you ever again?” Newt teases and kisses the tip of Percival’s nose when the man whines; hiding his face against Newt’s chest.

“It’s the fever talking,” Percival reasons, pressing a kiss on Newt’s sternum. “You know I love you.”

Newt smiles and tries to lean down to kiss Percival’s mouth only for his movement to be halted by Percival’s hand against his face.

“Do you love me?” Percival asks solemnly, brows furrowing seriously.

“Of course I do,” Newt reassures, pulling Percival closer to him.

“If you love me then you should make chicken soup for me.”

“No.”

Percival pouts. “You don’t love me.”

Newt narrows his eyes at Percival even though Percival is not looking at him. He knows this little manipulation game and usually it works on him 80% of the time but not this time.

“Well you don’t love me too then if you ask me to do hard labour when I’m sick,” Newt counters back; pouting too and looking the other way when Percival tries to catch his gaze.

”Dougal can make us chicken soup,” Percival says nonchalantly.

”Dougal is a demiguise and while he is very clever and loves food, he is not your personal chef,” Newt chides at Percival lightly.

“We are at an impasse then,” Percival sniffles and Newt hides his grin behind his comforter when Percival drops his head against Newt’s chest once again. He can’t see anything but his dark hair poking out from the purple comforter but Newt knows Percival is pouting for real this time; with the way his shoulders are pulled taut from tension.

“We can owl Queenie and ask her to stop by and bring us soup,” Newt suggests and he doesn’t hide his grin this time when Percival looks at him like he’s the shiny knight to save the day.

“We can?” Percival asks, his dark eyes bright from fever and hope.

Newt nods and chuckles when Percival leans up to peck his lips. “I still think you’re at fault for making me sick but thank you for suffering with me,” Percival says with a small grateful smile and it’s such a ridiculous statement that Newt has to bite his lip from laughing out loud by how too out-of-it Percival seems to be.

Still, Newt kisses the top of Percival’s sweaty hair while rubbing his back soothingly; murmuring sweet nothings until they both slowly fall asleep cuddled together underneath the purple comforter.

Out like a light.

 

**Author's Note:**

> if you have reached this point then congratulations! kudos and comment are very much appreciated!


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